Fit for You

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by Cynthia Tennent


  I was beginning to understand.

  “You know, there are a lot of tough things in life. Lord knows I’ve seen some pretty bad stuff.” The veterans cap and the tone of his voice told me more than he was willing to say. “Now I’ve got friends along for the ride. People around town leave stuffed animals out for me. It makes them happy to know I am taking care of their little guys. There’s something nice about changing something unpleasant into something nice. Even if it’s just a little gesture. It’s like my candy. A little sweet to go with all the sour stuff people deal with.”

  He told me all about the display he was going to have at the cheese shop in Pinconning and how he was going to make it big in the candy business. I was pretty sure he exaggerated quite a bit for my benefit. His chatter worked. By the time we arrived at the Callahans’ I was feeling better.

  Uncle Pete shook my hand and held it. “My nephew is very special to me, Lily. He cares a lot about you.”

  I swallowed and tried not to cry again at the thought of Edge. “I told him some things about the way I feel today, Uncle Pete. I don’t think he feels as strongly as you think.”

  “You’re wrong there, my dear.” He handed me a bag of candy. “You’ll feel better soon.”

  Impulsively I gave him a hug. “Thank you so much, Uncle Pete.” After he drove away, I put the candy in my pocket and walked toward the house. What would have happened if Uncle Pete had been driving the truck the day I arrived in Truhart? Would things have been different? Would I have ended up staying somewhere other than the Callahans’?

  I had just pulled the key out of my pocket when I heard the sound of tires screeching on the road behind me.

  I turned around and what I saw made my blood run cold. Ivy’s hunched figure sat behind the wheel of her white Ford Taurus. The car careened back and forth in a zig-zag. Then it picked up speed as if she had forgotten the difference between the brake and the accelerator. It veered off the road and plowed through the mud and grass, knocking down perennials as it bounded straight through the garden and into Reply Lake.

  “Ivy!”

  I ran across the road, my heart beating out of my chest, terrified that the car would sink before I could get to it. It floated on the lake surface, bobbing away from the shore like a ship without a rudder.

  How had Ivy gotten behind the wheel? Then I remembered, Louise had taken her to warm up.

  I kicked off my shoes and tore off my coat. I was just about to jump, when I stopped.

  I had to be smart about this. The nose of the car was sinking slowly. There was no way Ivy would be able to open a door or even the window herself. I wouldn’t be strong enough to open it with the water pressure from the outside.

  I spun back toward the ranch. Thankfully, the hoe I had used to work in the garden the other day was still propped against the house. I grabbed it and rushed to the shore.

  I jumped over the low timber edge that ran along the shoreline and into the frigid water. Adrenaline took over. I didn’t even feel the cold after the initial shock. I ran through the shallow water until it was too deep. Then I swam toward the Taurus with one hand holding the hoe, making painfully slow progress.

  When I reached the car, I could see Ivy inside. Her hands were on the wheel as if she were still attempting to drive the car. Her face was a mixture of terror and confusion.

  “Move back!” I yelled.

  I didn’t have time to wait for her to understand. I raised the hoe and hit the driver’s side window. Ivy instinctively leaned away from the window. Good. I didn’t want her hurt.

  I slammed the hoe again, this time aiming the sharpest edge of the hoe at the window. It smashed through the safety glass, leaving a gaping hole. I raised the hoe several more times to clear the glass.

  “Stay calm, Ivy. I’m going to get you out.”

  Water lapped over the side and into the car. I ran the hoe over the sill to make a wide opening and dropped it. Making a fist, I cleared the rest of the jagged glass on the edge of the window, ignoring my bloody hand.

  “Come on, Ivy. We have to get you—” I swallowed a mouthful of water and choked. Thankfully, she had her seat belt on when she went in the water. Now, however, it made it difficult to unbuckle. I held on to the door and reached in, yanking her toward me with all my strength. I lost my footing and felt the strain on my knee. The water was rushing into the car now. The car was sinking. The water made Ivy lighter, more buoyant, as I finally pulled her out.

  Swimming in the frigid water was a nightmare. I had been trained long ago in lifesaving and I held Ivy’s chin up with one hand and crawled slowly to shore. The importance of keeping her head above the water was paramount. If the cold didn’t kill her at her age, swallowing water and catching pneumonia might.

  The last part of the rescue was the hardest. My strength was almost gone and I struggled to pull Ivy through the shallow water near the shore without hurting her. For all her frailty, she was heavy in her wet clothes, and I had trouble holding on to her. Her eyes were barely open and I was worried about hypothermia.

  With one last heave, I lifted her out of the water and over the timber edging onto shore.

  She fell toward me. I twisted to cushion her fall.

  And felt a horrible and familiar pop.

  Together, we collapsed in the dirt of Ivy’s garden, a shivering mess.

  When I regained my breath I gazed over at Ivy. She lay on her side, facing me. Her lips were blue. Her body was cold. I sure as hell wasn’t going to lose her now.

  My coat was a few feet away, right where I had thrown it off before jumping in the water. I grabbed it and covered her head and her chest, rubbing her arms to keep the circulation going. I tried to feel a pulse but my hands were too numb. Streaks of blood stained the white coat, and I panicked until I realized it was my own.

  “Come on, Ivy. Come on. Edge and Tracy and Louise . . . they all still need you. Don’t give up. They’ll be here soon.”

  Someone would pass by. Wouldn’t they? I was so tired. And cold. My knee was alarmingly numb and I couldn’t feel my lips.

  I tried to drag myself to my feet, but Ivy was lying on my leg. Even if I could get her off me, I didn’t think I was strong enough to make it to the ranch or the road. I doubted my knee would hold me.

  “It’s going to be all right, Ivy. Someone will drive by soon.” I kept rubbing the coat over her upper body.

  I felt a lump in the pocket and remembered what Uncle Pete had given me. Sugar would help prevent hypothermia.

  I reached into the coat pocket. “Ivy. I have something for you.”

  I fumbled with the bag’s twist tie and managed to take out a chocolate. Lifting the coat so I could reach her mouth, I begged her to take the candy. “Try this, Ivy. It will help you.”

  It took several attempts, but she finally opened her mouth and let me place the candy on her tongue.

  I talked to Ivy and plied her with candy for what seemed like hours. But I was almost out of strength. I was just about to close my eyes when I saw Ivy staring at something beyond my head.

  “Mine,” she croaked.

  “What?” I turned slowly to see what she was looking at.

  Behind my head was a single flower, sprouting out of the soil. Its three petals were white and at its center was a little yellow stamen. I hadn’t seen it the other day. A robin landed not far from us. Another bird called in the distance.

  “Now,” Ivy said, stronger this time. “Good.”

  Was she talking to me or the flower? I turned my head again. Her eyes were closed. But she was smiling.

  I looked back at the flower. It was like a lily, but it was different.

  Dad would know what kind of flower it was. He was always telling me about spring bulbs. The hardest part wasn’t the sun or the water or even the planting. The hardest part was being patient. They broke through on their own time.

  I felt the collar of my wet T-shirt. The necklace he had given me was still there.

  My mind drifted an
d I started to shiver, even though I didn’t feel anything but numb.

  What was it Dad used to say? You can’t force a bloom. They’ll come when they are ready. Just be patient, Lily Bud.

  Mom used to tell me I was a lot like my dad. I never understood how that could be.

  But now it made sense. People were easier to coax than to push. They were fragile, like a flower, and needed careful attention. Why had I never understood?

  Helping people get fit wasn’t a sport.

  It wasn’t about winning.

  In so many ways, what I did was more like gardening. It was about being patient and nurturing.

  It didn’t matter to Dad that I missed that stupid soccer goal all those years ago. Nobody ever thought that was important but me. I don’t know why I never understood.

  The sound of a siren woke me up from my strange half dream. The noise grew closer until I heard a car door slam and the soft sound of running feet on sod.

  J.D. was suddenly next to me, kneeling in the dirt. “I found them,” he said into a radio. “At the Callahans’. Call Edge.”

  He ran to his SUV and returned with a blanket. He placed a blanket over Ivy and started to put his coat around me.

  I pushed it away. “Put . . . it on . . . Ivy.”

  While he examined Ivy, he said, “We’ve been searching all over for Ivy ever since Sarah realized her car was gone.”

  Ivy said something, and J.D. calmed her down. “Shhh . . . save your strength, Ivy. Your family will be here soon.”

  Another car engine. A familiar and very, very dear voice. “Grandma! . . . Lily?”

  I raised my head as Edge dropped down beside us. I tried to explain. “Ivy drove the car . . . into th-th-the lake.”

  He looked at the water and then turned his gaze sharply back to me. “Jesus . . .”

  “An ambulance is on its way,” J.D. said. “I think it’s okay to move her off Lily.”

  Together they carefully lifted Ivy off my leg. I couldn’t seem to stop shaking. My California blood was making me feel like I was in a block of ice. Something warm covered me and I realized it was another blanket. Edge moved me gently onto his lap and I felt so silly to be shivering so much.

  I tried to speak. “I g-gave her . . .”

  Edge reassured me in a low, soothing voice. “It’s okay, honey. You don’t have to talk.”

  “B-but how is . . . she?” I asked.

  “Her pulse is strong. Her lips are losing some of the blue shade they had a moment ago. You did good, Lily,” J.D. said.

  “T-t-tried.”

  J.D. reached over and placed his hand on my neck, feeling my pulse. “Ivy is in better shape than Lily,” J.D. said quietly.

  “I’m f-f-ine.”

  “Shh. Don’t talk.” Edge wrapped something around my hand. Pain was slowly returning, and I winced. He rubbed my arms briskly, trying to get my blood flowing, sending tiny needles up my spine.

  I heard the crinkle of the bag. “I g-gave her P-Pete’s Treats.”

  J.D. handed me a piece of candy. “Eat some yourself.” The sweet chocolate melted on my tongue.

  Things were blurry and out of order for a while. More cars and people arrived. And an ambulance. Louise was frantic “Mom! Oh my God! Mom, are you all right?”

  I closed my eyes, and the next thing I heard was Chip directing paramedics and my mom’s sharp tone, slipping into Korean. When I raised my head, Ivy was already being loaded into the ambulance.

  Louise tried to get in the back of the ambulance, but the paramedic wouldn’t let her. “It’s all right, ma’am. We’ll take good care of her.”

  Edge pulled another blanket over me. “I don’t have h-hypotherm . . . Just cold.”

  The corners of his mouth drew up in a tiny smile and he kissed my forehead. “I’m so sorry about today . . . I tried to find you. I should have told you weeks ago. I love—”

  “Don’t.” I squeezed his arm, only I was so weak it was just a tap.

  He looked pained. “You were right about everything.”

  “I-I . . .” I had trouble finishing my sentence. What I originally thought were shivers had turned to a sudden urge to laugh. I thought about the fact that Pete’s stupid treats and all those calories I had complained about had probably saved Ivy’s life. And the irony of landing in the middle of a garden. Dad would be amused.

  From deep in my chest a rumbling started and I couldn’t stop myself.

  “Lily?” Edge’s voice sounded distressed. He leaned down and examined my face, afraid he had missed something.

  My mood grew lighter by the second. Ivy was alive. It was wonderful.

  “Lily? Are you all right?” His smooth face hovered over me in a strange blur.

  I could barely speak in between my giggles. Attempting made me laugh even harder. “Edge . . .”

  “What?” He was looking back and forth from me to J.D. with alarm on his face. “She never laughs like this.”

  I threw back my head, letting the hilarity mix with the tears. “I think I t-tore my ACL again . . .”

  “Awww shit. . .”

  LESSON TWENTY-THREE

  Be Patient—Lily Shue (New Triple C’s T-Shirt)

  A month later I lay in the preoperative holding area in a Traverse City hospital. My hair was in a cap and I wore a ridiculously unflattering blue hospital gown. I had an IV in my arm, and an X on my right knee where the surgeon was going to cut.

  Edge was beside me. Holding my hand. A beloved beard back on his face.

  “Don’t let me cry when I wake up,” I begged him for the third time.

  “I’ll tell you a joke.” Poor Edge. Turns out he is quite a softie. After I told him I tore my ACL, he couldn’t stop wiping away his own tears.

  “Do you have my ring?”

  He patted his pocket. It was going to be a short engagement. Just until I could walk down the aisle without a leg brace.

  So much had happened in the last month. After I was checked out at the hospital and cleared by the doctor to go home, Edge had insisted that I return to his bed at the ranch. As soon as Chip made sure Ivy was being treated and would recover, he and Mom seemed perfectly fine with Edge nursing me back to health.

  “I’ll send kimchi and dduk-guk,” Mom promised when she left. Edge’s refrigerator would never be the same.

  That first night after the accident, nothing warmed me as much as when Edge told me how much he loved me. When I asked how long he’d felt that way, he said it started somewhere between the moment I stubbornly insisted I could get in the garbage truck on my own, and the way I knew my NCAA basketball rules.

  “You seriously fell in love with me because I understood a traveling call?”

  “Then there was Jimi Hendrix.”

  “Yeah, but I like Michael more.”

  “I’ll get used to it,” he said. He even played “Baby Be Mine” for me.

  It was a tender night, despite my pain. The last thing I could do was make love. But I was patient. So was Edge.

  The June sun was like heaven when it finally poked through the clouds. The summer was in full swing. Edge had started a line of smoothies at the Dairy Cow, using my protein powder. It was all the rage with the tourists from downstate.

  Ivy’s garden was beautiful, thanks to Edge and the rest of the Callahans.

  Best of all, Ivy was remarkably unscathed by her little drive into Reply Lake. On a warm Saturday night last week, we set her wheelchair by the garden and Edge played silly songs on his guitar. It was a lovely night.

  A nurse came and added an anesthetic to my IV. I would be sleepy soon.

  “Your mom and brothers want to come in before the surgery,” Edge said. They flew in two days earlier. I suspected the real reason was because Ned wanted to check Edge out. Of course the three of them got along famously. I never doubted it. They were like the Three Stooges. The comedy and the slapstick never stopped. Even I couldn’t stop laughing.

  I was growing sleepy. The nurse was waiting for Edge to leave
. “I’ll see everyone after surgery. Just don’t let Chip show me a fake leg and tell me they cut mine off.”

  “He told me about that. Good joke. I should have tried that on Peter.” He kissed me tenderly. “Half the town is in the waiting room.”

  After saving Ivy, I had suddenly become the town hero.

  “I hope there’s healthy food in the cafeteria, then.”

  “They wanted me to give you this before you went into surgery.”

  He reached into a bag and held up a golden knee brace. “Since you get a new one after this, they spray-painted your old one for you.”

  Another prize was already with the Triple C’s. It was a new grant for gym equipment. The prize for winning the Warrior Weekend Challenge.

  Aubrey Vanderbeek still thought we had cheated. But the judges saw something they liked in the Truhart team. With one team member left to go, and only a tie needed to win the obstacle course’s final race, Edge had put Rocky into the competition. As he struggled to complete the challenge, yards behind his competitor, he had been surrounded by a sea of yellow T-shirts. The town of Truhart had cheered him on, drowning out the Harrisburg team’s victory dance as Rocky crossed the finish line behind him. Instead of dejected moans of defeat, Truhart raised Rocky up on their shoulders and paraded him around the field like a champion.

  Not only did Rocky get extra points for effort, but the judges saw the way the citizens from Truhart crossed the field and shook Harrisburg’s hands. Several bonus points for sportsmanlike conduct put Truhart over the top.

  “I love you, Lily.” The drugs were starting. It was time for me to go to sleep. “One more thing. Uncle Pete sent you this.”

  He reached into the bag and pulled out a teddy bear with a little Velcro strap on its knee.

  I couldn’t stop smiling at the sight of the burly, handsome, bearded love of my life clutching a teddy bear. It reminded me of that first day. “I wish I could take it into surgery.”

  Edge tucked it under his arm and gave me a kiss as the nurse wheeled me away.

  “We’ll both be waiting for you when you wake up.”

  Did you miss Elizabeth and J.D.’s story? Keep reading for a special excerpt of Skinny Dipping Season, and a summer that changes everything.

 

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